


Caught

by Kittendiamore



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auguste POV, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 08:26:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15263400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittendiamore/pseuds/Kittendiamore
Summary: Laurent gestured subtly, towards the other end of the ballroom where a group of men were talking amiably. “Him,” Laurent said.Auguste looked. “What about him?”“I’m going to court him.”There was a long pause. “That’s King Damianos of Akielos.”“Okay,” Laurent replied.





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this on tumblr like six months ago but I keep getting called out for not posting all my fic here so: here it is. Title is from the Florence and the Machine song of the same name, and also because Caught sounds like Court, and this is the courting au.

Laurent gestured subtly, towards the other end of the ballroom where a group of men were talking amiably. “Him,” Laurent said.

Auguste looked. “What about him?”

“I’m going to court him.”

There was a long pause. “That’s King Damianos of Akielos.”

“Okay,” Laurent replied.

Laurent was watching the man with a calculating eye. Damianos, oblivious, laughed at something his friend (Nikola?) was saying. He had a certain charm about him - all smiles and the kind of self-assurance that was attractive. If one was into that. Auguste was not into that. And he certainly wasn’t into his darling little brother being into that.

“I have every faith in you, Lo,” Auguste said. “But he hasn’t shown any interest in courting you.”

Laurent shrugged, uncaring.

“He’s Akielon,” Auguste tried, a little desperately.

“No one’s perfect.”

“He,” Auguste was grasping at straws here, “When he arrived, he said ‘my eyes hurt from all the extravagance’. He doesn’t like Vere.”

“That just means he’s sensitive to beauty,” Laurent replied, airily. “Which is a point in my favour.”

Auguste sighed, heavily. “Why him?”

At that, Laurent looked at him. His blue jacket made his eyes stand out especially well tonight. Auguste would have preferred to introduce him to some Veretian noble to marry, someone who would respect - and also be subject to the whims of - Laurent. Damianos was a giant who would steal Laurent away to Akielos and probably add him to a harem of a hundred.

“I’m twenty-one. Mother said that if I didn’t pick someone to pay court to by the end of the year, she’d arrange a marriage for me herself,” Laurent said.

“The year ends at midnight.”

“Yes,” Laurent said. “I didn't think she was serious. She has since assured me that’s not the case.”

“I’ll argue with her about it,” Auguste said. “There’s no need for you to make a choice so soon.”

Laurent gave him a look.

“I’ll talk to her about it,” Auguste amended. “Politely, but sternly.” Their mother was a formidable woman.

“Relax,” Laurent said. “Damianos is handsome enough; everyone I have spoken to says he’s good-hearted and a delight to be bedded by. He isn’t a terrible choice.”

“You can’t decide to marry someone based on that!”

“I didn’t say we’d get married,” Laurent said. “We’ll court and become engaged, and then I’ll stage a terrible fight and he’ll return to Akielos alone in the new year. I’ll be broken hearted, mother will pity me, and then she’ll stop pressuring me to marry.”

“Damianos will never agree to that. He doesn’t even know you.”

“Well,” Laurent said, straightening his shoulders. “He’s about to.”

-

Auguste knew that he was charismatic. It was easy for him to make friends and find people to laugh at his jokes or to make eyes at. But Laurent had a different kind of charisma, that he could seemingly turn off and on at will. Auguste watched his quiet, bookish brother walk over to the King of Akielos - their sworn enemy until very recently - with all the confidence of a seasoned soldier.

And then, with an absolutely calculated lack of grace, Laurent stumbled and accidentally nudged into Damianos.

The scene played out: Laurent apologised, Damianos gestured to brush the matter off and then got a good look at Laurent and froze. Laurent said something, doubtlessly charming, and the King laughed. He had a dimple. Auguste watched his brother duck his head shyly, like a virgin milkmaid, and then Damen was smiling down at him, his friend ignored.

Auguste sighed and accepted a refill of wine.

-

For the next two weeks, Auguste kept catching glimpses of Laurent and Damianos. The whole court started gossiping about the pair the moment Laurent was seen publicly laughing at one of Damen’s jokes. It was a special delight (and dread) to see the way Laurent’s plans came together when one was privy to them.

Auguste suspected that Laurent only really told him in order to stop any brotherly posturing. It was a good choice. Even knowing Laurent wasn’t serious about his courtship, Auguste was still tempted to give Damen a talking to. Especially when rumours abounded that the Akielon King had entered Laurent’s rooms some nights.

-

“Damianos invited me to spar with him,” Auguste said.

Laurent nonchalantly turned a page in his book. “Yes,” Laurent said. “He was going to ask you to wrestle, but he didn’t want to embarrass you too much.”

“What?” Auguste said. “I could beat him in any sport.”

Laurent laughed. “I’m sure you could,” he said, in a way that meant he didn’t think so at all.

Auguste was struck with the sudden fear that maybe Laurent had fallen for the brute, after all. He felt a keen sense of loss, just at the idea that his brother had found someone new to idolise. He’s never so much as suggested that Auguste could lose in any arena before.

“I’ll wrestle him,” Auguste said, foolishly.

Laurent finally put down his book, only to raise an eyebrow. “Auguste,” he said carefully. “Akielons fight in the nude. You’ll give up before you’ve even taken your jacket off.”

“I will not,” Auguste said.

-

Damianos had reacted skeptically to Auguste’s offer to wrestle him, but in the end he agreed.

“We can go slowly,” Damianos suggested.

Auguste was glad that this was a private ring. He was feeling very odd, preparing to engage in sport without clothing. He’d scandalised himself.

“No,” Auguste said. “Let’s get this over with.”

It took Damen a humiliating fifteen seconds to put Auguste in the dirt. (And even then, he was pretty sure the first ten seconds had been pity). Damen was on top of him, legs pinning his own legs, hands pushing Auguste’s wrists into the ground above his head.

The doors burst open with a resounding clang. A gasp.

Auguste looked up to see Laurent, clutching his heart in the doorway. Next to him were two boys from the court, notorious gossipers that Laurent usually disdained.

“ _Damianos!_ ” Laurent said, in a voice worthy of the greatest actors. “With my own brother! How could you?”

Damianos had sat back and was looking at Laurent in confusion. “What?”

“I thought we had a connection,” Laurent said. “But I cannot abide by this. I will not marry a man who isn’t willing to devote himself to me entirely. This was a mistake.”

With a flourish of drama, the likes of which Auguste had never before seen, Laurent turned his head mournfully and declared: “I shall never trust again!” before storming from the room. His two companions were quick to chase after him.

The doors closed behind them.

Damen looked at Auguste. “What.”

Auguste sighed. “I don’t pretend to know what happens in my brother’s mind. It’s best you forget any ideas of continuing to court him.”

“We weren’t courting,” Damen said, brow furrowed.

“You were seen going into his rooms at night.”

“To discuss him training to fight in one of our schools,” Damen said. “He only had evenings free.”

Auguste rubbed a hand across his forehead. He was getting a headache.

-

“But did it have to be me?” Auguste asked his brother later.

“You haven’t taken a lover in a while,” Laurent said. “Some distasteful rumours started popping up and this quashed them.”

Two birds with one stone. How very like Laurent.

-

Laurent performed his heartbroken ruse well. He avoided Damen at all costs; leaving events early or forgoing them entirely. He locked himself in his rooms and could be seen wistfully lamenting from his balcony. The court was abuzz with the scandalous gossip of Laurent’s first, tragic love.

Damen, for his part, just smiled guilelessly and pretended not to speak Veretian well whenever anyone was bold enough to comment to him directly on the matter.

Unfortunately for Laurent, perhaps, he could not avoid Damen when it was time for the royal family to see off the foreign king.

Damen clasped hands with Auguste, kissed Hennike’s cheeks, and then turned to Laurent. There was a heavy pause in which the entire court waited for a grand gesture or even hostility between the two, but Damen just gestured at a servant. The servant stepped forward and handed him a book, which Damen then held out to Laurent.

“I’m sorry for the way things happened between us. But all the same, I’m glad we crossed paths, however brief that time was. I hope you’re future is everything you want it to be, Prince Laurent.”

While Damen was mounting his horse, Auguste looked over Laurent’s shoulder at the book. It was a collection of fables. Laurent tipped it open to a page in the middle, that Auguste saw had been bookmarked.

_The Lion and the Fox_ , it said, in elegant Akielon letters, with the translations underneath. It was hard to believe that Damen had had brought this book to Vere with him, and so he must have hastily commissioned someone to have it made in the past few weeks. Auguste watched Laurent’s eyes skim over the page, and then he snapped the book shut and held it to his chest.

As the Akielon entourage rode away, Laurent watched them, an odd expression on his face.

Auguste considered the way that Laurent stood, his new gift held to his heart. 

“Oh no,” Laurent said, very softly.

-

-

“Darling,” Hennike said, at family breakfast. “Add King Togeir to the invite list. It’s the least you could do.”

Auguste nodded. He’d been unsure whether it would be a slight to invite him or not - after Auguste had refused to marry one of his daughters and had instead fallen in love with a Veretian commoner.

“If we’re inviting other Kings to my wedding,” Auguste said, “we should include Damianos.”

He pretended not to see Laurent look up from his plate, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Yes,” Laurent said.

“No,” Hennike replied, frowning. “Laurent, don’t make that face. I only want what’s best for you.”

“I know, mother,” Laurent ducked his head, faux-contrite. “But the most important thing is Auguste having a strong rule. I’m willing to set aside my past with King Damianos, if it improves our country’s alliance.”

“How noble,” Auguste said, grinning. Laurent very pointedly did not look at him.

Their mother - who half a year later still believed that King Damianos had engaged both her sons in bedsport - sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Invite that beast. Laurent, you are not to speak with him when he’s here.”

“Diplomatic,” Laurent said.

“Take this seriously,” she warned him. “He may be a lecher, but he’s charming. I don’t want you falling into his bed again just to get tossed back out.”

-

The Akielon party was due to arrive a week before the wedding. Laurent spent the days leading up ensuring that everything was running smoothly and following Auguste around to no discernible purpose.

“What is it?” Auguste said, after the fifth day of Laurent chattering in the way he did when he was nervous.

“Be more specific,” Laurent said.

“You’re obviously building up the courage to ask me something. Out with it.”

Laurent opened his mouth to make a denial and then closed it again. “Fine,” he said, finally. “I wanted to ask for advice.”

“On what?”

The pause this time was extended. “Courting,” Laurent bit out.

“Oh,” Auguste said. And then he started laughing.

“Stop it,” Laurent said, crossing his arms.

“Is this about Damianos?” 

Laurent scowled silently. That was as good as admitting it.

“It is!” Auguste mussed his little brother’s hair. “I’m going to have to actually challenge him to a duel this time.”

“This was a mistake,” Laurent said. “I must have gone temporarily insane to think you would know how to charm someone.”

“Hey! I’m getting married.”

“My condolences to Angelique.”

Auguste slung an arm across Laurent’s shoulders and pulled him in close. “Just talk to him,” he said, “and maybe apologise for ruining his reputation in Vere.”

-

“I wouldn’t say ruined,” Damen said, over dinner when someone brought it up. “I’ve had quite a few offers of companionship from Veretians interested in my rumoured talents.”

“Did you accept any?” Laurent asked.

Damen grinned. “I told them my taste in Veretians runs exclusively to princes.”

-

It was subtle, but Auguste kept catching glimpses of it. Damen and Laurent going riding together, or taking walks in the garden, uncaring of onlookers. Auguste even caught them once, in the middle of a picnic, just staring at each other with silent adoration. This time, the fear that he was going to lose his brother to the Akielon seemed much more warranted.

“I don’t know if I approve,” Auguste said, in Laurent’s rooms one afternoon. “This is all very sudden.”

“No, it isn’t,” Laurent said. He dropped at stack of papers in Auguste’s lap. Letters. “We’ve been writing all year.”

Auguste looked long enough only to see that the newest letter was signed with the words _Forever Yours, Damianos_. He sighed.

-

Two days before the wedding and Laurent was late to family breakfast. One of their last before Angelique would get to join them. “Should we eat?” Auguste said.

“No,” Hennike replied. “I think having Damianos here was a bad idea. You remember how he locked himself away last time.”

Auguste pretended not to remember those days of his mother’s stern looks in his direction. She loved him, but he knew that Laurent was the most precious to her. Auguste couldn’t blame her. It was impossible to know Laurent as a precocious infant and not develop a lifelong devotion.

“I think he just wants to sleep in,” Auguste suggested.

Hennike shook her head. “We’re eating together. I’ll tell the servants to bring the food to Laurent’s room. You go wake him. We’re not leaving him to sulk this time.”

-

Auguste entered Laurent’s rooms without knocking, and then paused in the doorway of his brother’s bedroom to the view of Damianos’ exquisitely well-muscled and naked back.

“Well,” Auguste said, effectively announcing his presence, “you move fast.”

Damen, shocked, took one look at Auguste and essentially threw himself off the bed and onto the floor, out of sight. Laurent covered himself with a sheet, although that did nothing to hide his heavily flushed cheeks and bedhead.

The brothers both looked quizzically after Damen. “He’s shy,” Laurent said, in the way of explanation. “He wouldn’t even let me call someone in to bring us breakfast.”

“You don’t seem too put out,” Auguste replied.

“That’s because I was putting out.” Laurent looked at Damen. “Get back in bed,” he said, somehow looking comfortable commanding a foreign king around.

Damen very carefully managed to stay fully covered by the sheet while moving back into the bed.

“Last time we met,” Auguste said, “you were naked and on top of me.”

“We were wrestling!” Damen said. “It’s different.”

“You’re going to be a very awkward guest at the consummation.”

“The what?” Damen said.

“Anyway, you should go,” Auguste picked up what looked like Damen’s chiton and threw it at him.

Laurent gave Auguste a betrayed look.

“Mother is on her way,” Auguste explained. “She thinks you’re mourning Damen’s presence here.”

That encouraged Damen to stand, forgetting his modesty enough to start dressing. Which was, of course, the exact moment that their mother chose to walk through the door. The sight couldn’t be more incriminating - Damen at the side of the bed, as naked as the day he’d been born, Laurent between the sheets looking very recently deflowered, and Auguste standing there watching.

“What,” their mother said, “is this?”

“It’s okay,” Laurent replied. “We’re going to be married.”

Auguste opened his mouth to scold Laurent for lying to their mother, again, when Damen turned very earnestly to him and said: “With your blessing, of course”.

“Oh,” Auguste said. He looked between them. “You’re serious?”

“Yes,” Damen and Laurent said together, equally passionate.

“Absolutely not,” Hennike said.

“You said I had leave to decide my own husband,” Laurent told her.

“Not when it’s him!” she declared. “They care nothing for fidelity in Akielos. He’ll take you back there to look pretty while he fucks his mistresses and brings you shame.”

“No,” Damen said, although he had paled slightly at hearing the Queen Mother say fuck. “There will be no-one else.” He looked to Laurent. “There hasn’t been for months.”

Auguste had to commend Laurent’s letter writing abilities. And also maybe ask for advice later.

“Auguste,” Hennike said. “Do something about this.”

He looked helplessly between mother and brother, then sighed. “I approve.”

Laurent beamed at Damen. His mother made a sound of outrage.

“Even if I didn’t,” Auguste said. “It’s Laurent. He’d elope with him anyway.”

“I would,” Laurent agreed.

-

Auguste couldn’t help but think that Laurent had timed everything specifically so that Auguste wouldn’t lose his brother until he’d gained a wife. “Are you sure?” Auguste said. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

It really was though, as the Akielon contingent were just about ready to leave and take Laurent with them.

“Positive,” Laurent said. “You have a strong council and a good wife. You’ll be fine without me.” He said it like he hadn’t been the one to spend years carefully weeding out potential traitors until Auguste had the most loyal possible council ever known.

“But are you sure?”

“Yes,” Laurent replied. His smile was radiant. “I love him.”

Auguste sighed and pulled his little brother into a hug. “You can come back at any time.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Laurent said, hypocritically. “You’ll see me in Akielos soon for the wedding. And I’ll visit constantly.”

“At least once a year,” Auguste told him, “or I’ll kidnap you back here myself.”

“Of course,” Laurent replied. Over his shoulder, Auguste could see Damen, making sure that all of Laurent’s possessions were getting treated with the utmost of care. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, Auguste thought.


End file.
